


The Gift of Vengeance

by Tovi_the_Reader



Category: Elder Scrolls, Elder Scrolls IV: Oblivion, Elder Scrolls Online, Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: Daedra, Daedric Princes, Elder Scrolls Lore, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Eventual Fluff, F/M, Slow Burn, Werewolf, Werewolf Hunters
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-22
Updated: 2019-12-15
Packaged: 2020-09-24 02:21:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 14,362
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20350786
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tovi_the_Reader/pseuds/Tovi_the_Reader
Summary: A girl in a forest is being hunted and has lost everything. Will the Lord of the Hunt help when she prays?





	1. 1. Frantic Beginning.

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Veno7913](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Veno7913/gifts).

The explosion rocked the forest. Trees were set aflame. The scent of burning conifers and fire magicka hit her. The shockwave from the biggest fireball she had ever seen knocked her forward. She sprawled into the grass. Dirt was flung into wounds she did not know she had.

"You idiot! Did I not tell you we need it recognizable to get the bounty?!" He said, "Put your oblivion-damned spells away and let me show you how hunting is done."  
h  
With a deep cracking a tree compromised by the spell fell in front of the hunter as he started forward. She saw that this was her opportunity. She scrambled. She ran!

Her lungs burned. Her skin was raw and the undersides of her feet bled. She knew this left a clear trail but she had no other option. When she realised the scent of burning wouldn't leave her nose she panicked. When she realised the explosion damaged her hearing she started to pray.

"Please... Please..." It was the only thing she could say. she gripped the stylised deer skull pendant around her neck. The antlers bit into her palm, staining the skull red. Leaning against an oak she took in air. A stabbing pain let her know this was a bad idea.

Lifting her shirt she inspected it. The pain only got worse when she finally saw the shard of rock embedded in her torso. Removing it would only make it worse she knew.

"Please..." she pleaded as she sunk to the ground. The enormity of what transpired threatened to overwhelm her. "Just one more-" her breath hitched, "Just... one more change."

Footsteps. So many heavy footsteps. They were coming closer. She rose with a snarl on her tawny face, showing fangs she did not have, "Hircine! Do you hear me? Let me show these men that your wolf is not prey!"

Already having changed once that day she knew this was a shot in the dark, but it was the only chance she had. The shard of stone in her ribs would have already spelled her death if she was still Bosmer.

Silence gripped the wood. A sickening, deafening silence. The hair rose on her neck. She felt eyes on her from the darkness. Fear that dwarfed anything she felt that night gripped her. She was a rabbit in a snare for an instant. A buck staring down the shaft of an arrow. for a moment.

She shook herself and glared, "I AM NOT PREY!" She roared.

"No, little whelp. No you are not." Came a voice she knew, though she had never heard it before, "Go. Go and hunt well."

Blinding agony gripped her. she fell to her knees, lost in an eternity of pain. fur sprouted. fangs elongated. Bone popped and snapped. Then it was done.

Breathing deep she felt... good. Very good. With a small thump the stone fell to the ground. It was embedded at least four inches into her ribcage judging by how much more of the thing she can see now. She picked it up.

It looked like a spearhead that a novice fletcher would knap back home. She had no need of it with the gift that her lord had granted. Yet it seemed prudent to show that wizard how dangerous shrapnel could be. The grin that overtook her wolfish face would have stopped a man's heart instantaneously. Throwing her head back she howled.

Their scent tickled at her nose. The idiots were hunting her from upwind. With her restored hearing she knew they were getting closer. The braggadocio of the head hunter made her blood boil. Him. He would be last.

The mixed scents told her the rest of his band had caught up in the time it took them to clear the mess the wizard made. Seven hunters in total. She would make sure that none would leave the forest whole.

Had she always been able to scent that fast? She disregarded the question of her heightened senses. It was time to hunt.

Slinking into the forest she watched them. They blundered into the clearing where hircine gave his gift. Her ripped clothes and blood littered the forest floor like so many leaves. The leader bent low and it was all she could do to not pounce then and there.

"How is this possible?" he said. He gripped a shred of her blouse with white knuckles.

"How is that possible?" Said a high elf archer as he lowered his bow a touch.

"It changed."

"Its a werewolf. They tend to do that." The, "you dumbass" was implied in tone.

Lead hunter glared daggers at the archer,

"what? They do!" he said defensively.

"not more than once a day," snapped the leader, "It somehow changed again. If the moons were full that would be one thing. But they're not. It changed again. Form up!"

The barking command jerked the group into action. but not before one of them stepped within range of her claws.

With lightning speed she swiped. Before the hunter knew it he was being dragged into the blackness, screaming.

The other hunter's faces blanched when the screams ended as suddenly as they began. Some scattered in terror when the body of the first one to die was thrown back into the clearing with no throat and a glassy stare.

The next two died just as the first had. She revelled in the hot blood. The meat and bone that gave under her teeth. She drank down their deaths like a man in the desert does water.

Too fast.

Their broken bodies joined the first. The remaining four stood fast, however. Back to back in a protective circle. The wizard cast flames at some debris on the ground to give them light. She did not need such trivial things in this form. She could see better now than they could at high noon.

She praised Him with every kill but knew the rest was up to her. She was provided the tools with which to take her revenge. Now to figure out how to get them to move from that formation...

Patience. She climbed a tree as silent as a shadow. No rustle of leaves or creaking of branches gave her away. An ancient oak was strong enough to hold her in this form. Somehow she knew she would stay like this for however long she needed. That she would keep her wolf's shape for as long as it took for her to whittle the killers down. she got comfortable. She waited.

It took them half an hour of huddling to get that no more would die immediately. She could see the string of their bows waver when they tired. slowly their weapons dropped. Not completely, but they dropped.

"We need to leave," said one. He was a bosmer with black hair. She would name that one Crow for now. They needed better descriptors for planning than this hunter or that.

Another one that used silver throwing knives responded, "I don't care what the bounty is. It took out a third of our band in an instant. I say we retreat and let Loronir blow her to oblivion."

The wizard was called Loronir. At least she had one name. She would call the Nord that provided that name Dagger. It was on the nose but it would do. The last one would be called... Bastard.

The leader was Bastard.

If Bastard only knew what she named him. She could smell the fine foods he ate that morning. The wine he carried in a skin on his belt. She could imagine how the bloodstains and filth that clung to his expensive hunting leathers irked him. She would see to it that at least a piece of him got back to whatever noble family he came from. Whatever spawned this monster needed to know what one of their noble lines had birthed. What one of them did.

"Were not going anywhere," said Bastard. "The Order gave us this task and so help me we will complete it."

"Well i'm not a part of The Order. I just wanted gold. The gold isn't worth this," Said Dagger as he broke to leave. She tensed. She could feel the beast within shudder with the anticipation of blood.

"Stop you inbred fool!" Snapped Bastard. Dagger halted at the insult and drew in a breath to retort. Bastard cut him off with a wave of his hand. "Don't start. If you leave now we all die. You saw how quickly it moves. Its not normal anymore. Anyone who flees now is a dead man."

Dagger's face was flushed with anger but he nodded, "so what do you suppose we do? Just sit on our thumbs and wait to die?"

"Yes. That's exactly what we do, " said loronir sarcastically. The older breton ran his hands through his thinning blonde hair, "Let us just truss ourselves up like Sundas turkeys and ask the nice werewolf to kill us quickly. Simpleton. What we do," he takes out a Magicka potion and drinks it in two heaving gulps, "Ah! What we do is fight back."

"And how do you suppose we do that?" Said Dagger.

A smile took the brettons face. It was a smile filled with malice, "why we fatten our ranks!"

He said with a laugh.

"Loramir, No!" called Bastard, but it was too late.

Purple sparking magicka surrounded the wizards hands. It smelled of death and burning brimstone. Her hackles raised on instinct alone. She fought down and swallowed a growl that tried to rise from her throat. Tales of raising the dead were common to tell around the campfires of Greenshade. She had never thought she would see it in person.

The energies pushed into the throatless bodies at the wizard- no, at the necromancers feet.

They jerked and shook. Then they rose. The spell lifted and positioned them. Blood spilled from their missing tracheas as the corpses tried to cry out. The pain and fear was all too evident on their faces.

"Oops!" said Loromir, giggling, "I rose them with the wrong spell. It seems the spirits were still here. Oh well. That just gives them more animating force! Let us see the wolf bitch take these on!"

Bastard sighed, "really? Here? Their morale is already frayed and-"

Dagger bolted. Her patience had paid off. In the commotion of the argument in the clearing she lept out of her perch. Now that Loramir raised the dead she knew that she could give chase and not lose the rest. That stench. A man with no nose could follow that for miles.

She was even so bold as to show herself, just a little, as she passed. The group caught a glimpse of her midnight coat. Of her burning yellow eyes.

"After it!" cried Loromir. The shambling things stumbled and loped after her. She could hear their shuffling gait. She could lose the clumsy creatures easily.

She caught the relatively feinter scent of live fear on the air. The nord. He wasn't even trying to be quiet now as he sprinted through the forest. She let him get some distance from the other hunters. Let him have some glimmer of hope that he may see the sunrise. Then she closed in and cut him off.

He whipped his knives out and started throwing. She, on all fours, dogged and weaved through his admittedly impressive missile barrage. The last thing he saw was her gaping maw. She ended him just as quickly as she had the others but she continued the savagery. Let's see the necromancer raise disembodied limbs and chunks of meat.

As she thought this the shuffling grew closer. Her fur raised on end. The zombies stepped into a shaft of moonlight and she nearly retched. They were crying. The dead were weeping and mouthing words that had no hope of sound. In all the stories she had never heard of the dead having any emotion at all. This... this was a foulness that could not stand.

The ground gave under her claws as she sprinted forward. She swiped. To her surprise the first one ducked. With more grace than she thought possible for such creatures it slammed into her ribs and knocked her back.

She dropped to all fours and skidded to stay upright. she decided that them staying on their feet was just not feasible for her survival. She backed up a few feet and darted forward, head tucked down, and turned herself into a battering ram.

Two blows rained down on her back but it worked. They bruised her ribs but they were down, splayed back on the ground. Now was her chance. She turned back to the one on her left and went for the weakest point. The one she weakened herself. With a great bite she ripped through what was left of the zombies neck. The face slackened with relief.

She hacked and gagged. The meat tasted as if it had sat in the sun for days and festered. She forgot about the other opponent right up until it jumped on her. Its fingers dug into the fur on her back. It gripped tighter and she realised its fingers were piercing skin. She snarled as its hands became anchors hooked into flesh. Roaring and bucking wildly she attempted to get the thrice damned thing out of her back. She finally reared up and slammed her back into a boulder so hard she felt the thing crunch under her bulk.

Released from the zombies hold she turned on it. With both great claws she wrenched its head from its shoulders.

Taking a moment she breathed. Her back stung and she could feel the blood drip down. The feeling of undead fingers, cold and wiggling, under her pelt was something she wished she could scrub forever from her memory. That and the image of the weeping dead faces. Those she saw when she blinked.

The necromancer needed a message. She took the heads from all three kills and started back to the rest of the hunting party. On the way she took solace in the forest. The wind through branches. The smells of the night. It calmed her a bit. Only a bit. She lost much tonight.

The hunters left the fire in the woods. It hadn't been long since they left. She scattered what was left of the flames and stomped out the embers. Pausing she sniffed the clearing and picked up the obvious trail. Loromir still stank of his foul art and was easy to follow.

She caught up with the remainder. They were picking their way slowly through the woods. Bastard was leading, followed by Loromir and Crow. Crow was trailing farther behind than one would usually want in a rear guard. But what did they expect when Loromir pulled out necromancy with no warning.

Stalking silently she watched for her chance to snatch Crow. They were all on alert, heads swiveling and eyes darting about. They were afraid. Good.

She saw an old growth tree farther along in their path. Silently she snuck around and climbed it. A stout branch hung over the deer trail the party was following. Bastard passed under and didn't bother to look up. Loromir was looking around so fast that she doubted that he would even register a tree before he ran into it. Crow passed a bit after that.

It's a shame he was so scared of the necromancer that he didn't take his eyes off of him. Otherwise he may have seen her drop down behind him. Maybe he would have had time to register the threat before she set the heads of his former companions down and tore his clean off. He would never know.

She picked up her alarming collection and snuck closer.

"Oh, would you stop jumping, Loromir? That one was probably a rabbit." Said Bastard, "It's your fault were in this mess now. Did you have to raise them? What would you have done when we all left for the city? My clout can only go so far."

"It would have been a terrible tragedy, " He said with a nervous laugh, "The werewolf got them. Can't talk about crimes against man and mer when you're in a lycanthropes belly."

Bastard scoffed at this. Loromir jumped with a yelp.

"Really just calm do-" He said before seeing the four rolling heads at their feet. "It's here!"

Suddenly his face was wet. Warm and wet. His mouth tasted of copper.

"what... Loromir!" A claw had seemingly sprouted out of his partners chest holding a still beating heart. Slowly his eyes traveled up. Up passed the necromancers shocked face. Up passed the wall of blood caked fur. Up to the glowing amber eyes that bore into him.

A wet sucking sound accompanied her pulling her paw free. She stared him in the eye. A muzzle would not do for what she had to say. In her bosmer shape she was small with dull teeth and no claws. But, lycanthropy made up for those shortfalls with strength. Strength that even an enraged orc would do well to steer clear of.

Heart still in hand she changed. It was slower than she would have wanted. Bastard stayed put however. Sad. She wanted to give chase. After a few snarls of pain it was done. With a passing thought she noted that her eyesight was still too good. She could still smell too well. She shook that off and examined the quaking man before her. 

Her stark nakedness apparently wasn't of note to him right now. His eyes would not leave her face save for glances to the warm heart in her hands. She smiled at him.

"You..." The words were rough in her throat. The wolf still so close, "Why? Why did you kill them?"

Her speech snapped him out of his stupor, "Who? The other curs? The order willed them dead and I happily obliged."

"Order?"

"Like I would tell you who I work for? No. I shouldn't even be speaking with you," He said. standing. He brushed the dust off of his clothes and scoffed, "A beast does not deserve words. Now why don't you lay down and die like the monster you are!"

His sword flashed from its scabbard at her. She dogged back lightly, balanced on the balls of her feet. She was ready for this. A dance of death with the arrogant bastard that took it all from her.

"They were my family. My pack." She dogged left and down under his strike that would have taken her head had she let it land. She swept her foot under the backs of his but he jumped at the last minute.

"They were vermin to be eradicated." He said, lunging forward. A line of red appeared on her face. The cut was intentional on both their parts. She slapped away his blade and his arm flew wide with the pure force of it. She respected that he kept the blade in his hand.

She stood and punched with all of the fury she had in her soul. His breath whumped out and she heard the cracking of not a few ribs.

"Big words from someone who hid behind a pet necromancer," she whispered down at his retching form. She picked him up by the throat and squeezed. He thrashed piteously. "now die. Die like the monster you are."

His trachea was the first to go. his mouth gaped and he tried to gasp for breath through an opening that was no longer there. She kept squeezing, vice like, until the spine crunched and blood dripped down her arm. Finally his head rolled and body fell. 

She just stared for the longest time. Her breathing grew more ragged and intense. Her eyes burned and she howled. Howled her grief. Her triumph. Her rage. It all flowed into a deafening howl that could be heard for miles. Then silence.

A familiar silence. One that sent a chill down her spine. She welcomed it. A shadow stepped out of the forest.

"Good my huntress." The shadow said. "You took my gift and proved that no wolf of mine is ever prey. Sleep now. Rest. We have much to discuss when you awaken, little whelp."

Blackness took her and she slept.


	2. Chapter 2

"...Can her lungs handle the new musculature?"

"...I've infused them with Magicka to be more efficient. She should replenish stamina at a good rate. Monitor her progress..."

"...Look here, my Lord. Her tendons need strengthened here and here..."

"...Wise observation Seravi..."

"...thank you, my lord..."

"...My lord! You wanted to know when she awoke. I believe she may soon. See her twitch?..."

She drifted in the dark, bodiless and lost, for a long, long time. Nightmares of that night plagued her. The way her pack cried out. The small fraction of the force that chased her until she could get help. The way the dead wept. It swamped her until she was nothing but rage, pain and loss.

Hircine bends lower to watch as Tavali awakens. She feels the eyes of a predator upon her. Her heart jumps in place as adrenaline floods her every fibre. With a fierce right hook, she hits the first living thing she sees so it doesn't get the drop on her. Her fist meets fur. Fur wrapped around iron from the feel.

No matter. The force of the blow was worth the pain. The blurry creature bending over her was knocked clear across the room. She flew into a crouch with her back to the wall.

Then her eyes adjusted. She was in a small healers room. An alchemy station sat in one corner and beds lied in an orderly on her side of the chamber. She realised she wasn't in danger with a pang of relief. 

That fled, fast, as a massive form picked himself off of the ground. Rubbing his jaw a red fire lit in his eyes.

"....Shit," She mewled.

The blood drained from her face. Wide-eyed she glanced at the ginger Kajiit to her left, "I just punched..." The Kajiiti woman nodded gravely and stepped back to give her lord the proper space for the punishment to come.

Tavali's first thought was to bow. To grovel at his... hooves? She checked. Nope. Feet. A nerve-wracked giggle threatened to bubble up but she swallowed it down. Then she remembered the stories from when she was young.

How do you live through hircine's rage-filled Wild Hunt? You face it head-on. If she was going to die she wasn't going to do so on her knees. Even if it took all her will for those knees not to buckle in fear.

She got up and performed a quick respectful bow, "forgive me, my lord. I seem- seem to have mistaken you for an enemy. I-"

"Nonsense!"

"...What?"

"Strike me once more! I wish to see the strength of my newest beast!" he said, with what could only be a wide grin on his cervid face. The tonal whiplash of the conversation made her dizzy. She expected to be a smear on the flagstone floor by now.

"You're not... angry?" She asked. Her mind was trying to work through her lord's obvious joy about taking a left hook to the snout and failing. Spectacularly.

"Why would I be, little whelp? My modifications work!" He approached her, "Let me examine your hand." She held her hand up and he took it, nearly yanking her off of her feet.

As a Daedric Prince, she wasn't shocked he took a tall form. But his 8-foot tall stature meant that he soon had her hoisted up off the ground like a rag doll. She looked up at him in numb bewilderment. His eyes glowed as he examined her hand and wrist, turning it this way and that while she dangled.

Another giggle tried to butt its way out. Her hand was close enough to pet his nose like a tamed Indrik. A mantra of 'don't pet a Daedric Prince. DO NOT pet the Daedric Prince' repeated through her mind. She hated the part of herself that laughed at mortal peril like this.

"Remarkable..." He murmured.

"Er... what is?" She asked. Her shoulder started to ache.

"Your hand should have broken from the force. All you have is bruising." He said and dropped her unceremoniously. The breath wooshed out of her. "I heard your prayer. Both of them. The pleading cries of a cub in distress and the snarl of my wolf standing her ground. What you accomplished was more than I could have hoped for. You turned the hunt on its head and so I am rewarding you. What is your name?"

"Tavali," She stated as she pondered. She focused on gathering air into her tender lungs and noted she felt different. Her senses were sharper than before. Crisper. She looked at her hand which was indeed bruised. The angry purple stretched across her knuckles. She flexed her hands and froze.

She had _claws_

Her nails had been somehow replaced with Khajiit-like claws! She clacked them together and they made a metallic clinking noise.

"well..." she mused, "that's different."

"That is not the only change," Said the Kajiiti woman, "This one is Seravi. An assistant to Lord Hircine in your care and transformation." Seravi picked up her hand. She enjoyed the way she purred through her words. With a golden glow of a spell the purple shifted to green and yellow. Then the bruise was gone. "He has melded your mortal form with The Beast. But only a bit. This form now should be stronger, faster. Should heal more quickly. Your transformations should be swifter and less painful."

"Indeed," Said Hircine, a preening tone in his words. His voice had an odd quality to it. A growl lingered in his words. A soft hiss of a hunting cat.

“You also, “ Seravi said with a puzzled expression, “seem to have started growing horns of some sort. This one does not know where those came from.”

Her hands flew to her forehead. Above the curve of her brow, right at the hairline, small antlers were starting to sprout. Soft velvet covered the nubs.

“How long was I out? These weren't supposed to start for another month,” Tavali asked.

“On Nirn about 8 weeks have passed,” Said Hircine, “You have been here the entire time in a deep slumber so i could gift you this new form. The antlers started to grow about three weeks ago. I sensed the magicka of your people on them. I let them grow to see what they would do.”

She smiled. The antlers they would eventually be were a cosmetic that some of her people get to feel closer to The Green. The ones she wore were a gift from one of her packmates just before...

She was still sitting on the ground at Hircine's feet. She met his burning ember eyes and said, "Thank you." A moment of weighted silence passed and she thought her pack. Of what she could hunt with her new additions.

Her mind jolted back to the previous night. A stone sank in her stomach. The grief she couldn't afford to feel flooded back no matter how she tried to dam it. Tears welled but she refused to let them fall. But fall they did.

With a shaking breath, she stood and faced her lord. By the fact he was here, tangibly and in his full glory, she assumed one thing though she swears she only slept.

"I am in your hunting grounds."

"Yes."

"So I am dead then," She said. Her words were but a whisper of anguish. She knew she could never go back now. But at least she could see her pack. Till he spoke and ground that thought to dust.

"No."

"No? Then how am I," she motioned to the surroundings, "here?"

"I willed it," He stated simply, "Your gift required my full attention. That, I can not provide on Nirn, Tavali."

"Then I may still hunt?"

"Yes. And in that, with your gift I offer a quest."

Her eyes widened, "My lord?"

"The Order that took out your pack has been systematically eliminating others all over Tamriel. I want you to hunt them down,"

The weight of the quest settled on her like a lead blanket, "On my own?"

He threw back his head and laughed, "No little whelp! You will have the finest of hunters at your back."

Then his form started to smoke and blur. Out of the pillar of smoke stepped a man in a fur loincloth. A Nord from the looks of him. The smoke dissipated and left a man in its stead.

The man was striking. With his lean frame, sharp features and long jawline. Stubble speckled his face and his hair was a wild mop that reached down to his broad shoulders. Her jaw dropped, "...My Lord?"

"Yes, little whelp?" The voice was the same hiss. He motioned to his mortal guise and said, "Seravi. How will this form do on Nirn?"

"Very well Lord Hircine," she nodded, "This one thinks you will blend in well in both the wild and the city."

"Perfect," he growled. Then he turned his attentions to Tavali, "No, you will not be alone. This simple mortal aspect of my splendor will accompany you in this hunt."

All she could do was blink. She was to hunt with Hircine himself. Or at least, she assumed, a piece of him. Her mind buzzed with mixed emotions and she struggled to speak.

"I am honored My-" She started to say. His hand landed on her shoulder with the strength of a bear. It took all the coordination she had left not to be knocked back down.

"You should be! I only take a mortal form once every few centuries,” He said with a smile. “Your realm can only handle my full and unfractured form but once an era. However, I do enjoy sending a mortal piece out every so often. The challenge of hunting as one of my followers do is a rare thrill. Our prey is more than worthy of my direct attention.”

She studied his face for a moment, awestruck at his words. Moreso at his offer. Her mind reeled. She would get to hunt with The Lord of Hunts himself. To avenge her pack with Hircine behind her was almost too much to bear. She swallowed thickly, pain and rage and wonder filling her.

"It seems i have overwhelmed you, little huntress," He said. He paused in contemplation, "Follow me."

He swept from the small room as she blinked. She just stood there for a few moments until Seravi spoke.

"Lord Hircine gave you an order," she said with a smile. Her look told Tavali that the Khajiit had dealt with the lord's eccentricities before. Along with the resulting mortal confusion that followed.

"Oh! Right," the elf said, embarrassment darkening her cheeks. She followed Hircine's path out of the door.

The sun shone through the trees in a small clearing outside of the room. She realised she was in a small hut when she looked back. The inside of the hut looked so clean and orderly that she presumed it must be a part of a larger healers complex. She was, however, in the middle of a thick forest.

The massive trees loomed above her, reminding her of Valenwood. Of home. She realised they were graht oaks and smiled. The darkness of their bark struck her as different. These were also more gnarled and knotted. As she inspected them from the doorway she realised something. Things were moving in them.

Dark beastly shadows flitted between branches far above her head at times. The brightness of twin glowing eyes took her by surprise as well. They glittered in the dark places in the canopy, ever watchful. A sharp tone snapped her out of her reverie.

"Whelp," He said, "I believe I gave you an order earlier."

Confused she wracked her head.

_Strike me again!_

Her eyes grew wide, "You still want me to hit you?"

His eyes flashed then, the inky pools of black irises turning fiery red. His pupils were dark slits that dilated a bit as he grinned. His smile was feral. The fear hit her. He was the apex predator in this place and she was indeed but a whelp. She had only been a were for two months before all of this, "I want you to try."

She swallowed. She breathed. She felt the eyes from above watching her. With a pop of her neck, she cleared her mind and sprang.

She decided to test her new claws and raked at his face. He dogged easily and kneed her stomach. The breath left her again and she collapsed at his feet. Little did she know that that is when here own eyes lit. The dull yellow that they were normally flared to anger-filled life. Her teeth sharpened with a dull ache and black fur crawled up her arms. Distantly, from above, she heard a crowd react to the blow with an odd mix of voices and growls.

She jumped to her feet and let loose a blinding barrage of swipes. He dogged, weaved and blocked most of them. The last left 4 diagonal lines of crimson across his chest. He hissed through his teeth at the pain. Taking a hold of the opening provided by his distraction she kicked into his sternum sending him flying back to crash into the wall of the hut. A cheer rose from the watchers above.

"Very good, little whelp. Feel better?" he asked as he fluidly stood while rubbing his chest. His hand came away red. He stalked forward and she crouched, growling. An unholy sound that was felt more than heard. He gave a short barking laugh, "You have done as I have ordered. It is finished. Stand down."

She pulled her lips back in bared challenge. She had no room for complex thought. She smelled blood and felt pain. That was enough for her wolf to take over in a fevered haze. He studied her features as if seeing a new breed of prey to hunt. As if he was staring at her soul laid bare. Their eyes met and silence filled the forest in a dark wave.

He smirked again, "Don't challenge me, little huntress. You will not win."

The stare lasted a few minutes as she felt the increased need to look down. The pressure of his gaze was agonizing. She wanted to look away. To look anywhere but the eyes that held the wrath of oblivion itself. Her wolf refused for as long as she could before kneeling.

“Impressive,” He muttered, his thoughts distracting him.

The fur vanished from her arms slowly. Her teeth dulled. As did the color of her eyes. Exhaustion gripped her and threatened to pull her under. But, now, her thoughts were clearer than ever. The guilt she felt from being the last was more distant now. The wonder at where she was and who she was with no longer overwhelmed her. Now she just felt a spark of joy that she had sparred with Hircine himself. She stood and absently brushed the dust off of her clothes, noticing she was dressed differently in a simple white tunic and dark brown trousers. She took a cleansing breath and said, "Thank you, Lord Hircine. I do feel better after that. Are you ok?"

The question pulled him from his musings and he glared, “Of course I am!”

He wiped the blood off of his chest with a rag Seravi provided. Four pink scars took the place of the lacerations from moments before.

The quiet lifted as the crowd around and above dispersed. Hircine’s glower faded into a small smile, "Come now! We shall ready ourselves for the journey ahead!"

He started down a deer trail that led away from the hut and Tavali trailed after. She had a feeling that she would be working just to keep pace with him a lot. 

The peace she felt struck her as they walked. She expected a certain amount of looming dread when she imagined The Hunting Grounds. Perhaps the dread would have an undercurrent of excitement. But birds were chirping. She could hear soft wind through the boughs. A shape crossed the corner of her vision every once in a while but she felt no apprehension. No urge to run or fight the things that watched her from the brush.

"What are you thinking?"

"Its... calm here,” She said looking at the muted light filtering through the great trees.

"You were expecting chaos?"

"I was expecting an eternal ever-changing hunt," She said. He turned around and walked backwards to look at her.

"That part of The Grounds is that way, " he stated, pointing to his right. Then he gestured around himself, "This is The Gathering. A place of recuperation after successful hunts."

As he said this they passed under a transformed werewolf lounging on a low thick branch. He lazily opened one eye to see the duo passing underneath. The wolf picked up his head and gave a short bow of acknowledgement before drifting back to sleep in his patch of sun.

Her eyes drifted back toward Hircine. His gaze did not leave her sprouting antlers. She smiled, "What are _you_ thinking?"

"Did you get those to honor me?" He asked with a grin as he turned to face forward again.

"I had just been turned. My sister Bosmer, Vana, gave me these after my first successful kill in wolf shape. She said, 'May your points outnumber The Huntsmans by the time you reach His grounds!' She explained that it was a blessing of sorts for Bosmer followers of yours. A wish of long life and prosperity."

A blush tried to gather at her cheeks. It was strange to talk to a being that she had actively worshipped in this way. Casual was not what she was expecting when she imagined meeting her Lord. 

"Hmm. I have seen a few Bosmer with them. They have never reached the glory mine have," He said simply.

She laughed, "That's why it's more a figure of speech. These are made to grow back around to the crown of one's head and only have a few points so as not to get in the way. Could you imagine a small Bosmer like me sporting a, what? Ten-point rack and trying to carry on a normal life? They would catch on everything. Doorways would be-"

"Sixteen," He said over his shoulder.

"What?"

"My full form has sixteen points."

She pursed her lips. Did she just... wound his pride?

"My apologies, Lord hircine," she said with a quizzical smile, "Sixteen then."

He nodded at her placation. The path widened a bit and she sped to walk on his right.

“Where are we headed?” She asked. He had a mild flush to his cheeks that betrayed his stony expression. She did wound him a bit. 

“To my den.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading and to those who have left kudos! This fic is just a bit of fun. Like the comic that is based on this I'm doing this to work my much-atrophied writing muscles. I hope you enjoyed.


	3. Chapter 3

"Your... Your den?" Thoughts flitted through her mind. Thoughts that were wholly inappropriate for a Daedric Prince. She shook the odd thoughts out of her head and chided herself for being ridiculous. 

"We need supplies. I must warn you that my personal servant is there. Her name is Domina," he said as they reached another clearing. Tanning racks, a knapping station and other huntsman supplies were scattered around a large fire pit. The mouth of a cave loomed over it all. A figure in black hunched over the smoldering dregs of a fire. The mix of smoke, tanning hides and damp bird mingled in the air.

A voice like a strangled crow barked out a, "I greet you, my Lord Hircine. What brings you in your mortal seeming? And who is that you have honored with bringing to your den?"

Tavali stopped in her tracks. A hagraven stood with her staff in her hand. Stringy black hair dotted her scalp and her eyes were beady and birdlike. She found the creature unsettling to say the least. She's had to kill a hagraven before. They were no easy opponents. What they lacked in physical prowess they more than made up for in pure magickal skill. Remembering the fight she nearly lost made the hair on the back of her neck stand on end as she froze in place. 

"This is Tavali. She is to be my hunting partner on my trip to Nirn. Tavali, this is Domina," He said with a cordial wave of his hand.

"Hello... Domina," She replied around the adrenaline that gathered as a lump in her throat. She fought to not bear her blunt bosmer teeth at the creature. The hagraven cackled at this.

"You're bringing this pup with you? I hope you know what you're doing," She smiled with a mixture of cruelty and warmth, "She looks like she wants to either eat me or run!"

"Domina has been my loyal servant for the last few centuries. She cares for my den when I am gone and alerts me to anything happening that i need to know about on Nirn with her scrying," Hircine said as he laid a heavy hand on her left shoulder. It did little to center her, "Domina, this whelp took out seven were hunters on her own."

"You gave her the power to do that," she said as she waved the statement away, "Your magicka coats her still. It flows in every fiber and bone in her body!"

"No. I gave her the tools. She received one more shift with a mite of added strength and speed." He told the hagraven the story of her dismantling of the band. Domina looked her over again. She rubbed her thumb on her staff , a wicked looking thing with the carved skeletal head of a bird on the end, while listening and bore her gaze into Tavali till she wanted to squirm. Her regard did not calm Tavali’s beast at all. 

Tavali did feel different and the adrenaline coursing through her made the difference stark. The beast blood was oddly separate from her now. _Aware._ So much so that she had to direct her thoughts of, “Stop that. Calm down.” inwardly at what felt like a burgeoning separate soul. When that failed, she tried a different approach. 

“Stop distracting me from the predator.” She snapped in her mind. It worked. The tense urge to run or fight waned and was replaced with calm readiness. She would have to do some litteral soul-searching later.. 

"Then why is she drenched in your unholy power now?" Domina asked. Her grating voice snapped her out of her reverie, "This is no simple addition of power. You nearly remade her!"

"This is the result of two months of modifications. She is my newest creation."

"Yet she still has so much to learn... I doubt she has seen her 8th moon-cycle. Are you taking the pup under your wing?" she asked with a smile. 

"During the hunt i am," He replied, "We need traveling equipment."

"May I suggest some gold? We may need to grease a few palms on our journey." Tavali said, both as an honest proposal and a way to cut her tension from the hag knowing entirely too much about her, "That or we take a job or two from one of the towns. Counts will always have bounties on this troll or that band of brigands. This way I can work up to taking down a highly organised order of pack-exterminating werewolf hunters."

"That is a good suggestion," Said Hircine with a small laugh at her wry tone, "I need to get used to this new form as well. The hunting of a mere troll should do as an exercise.”

She was going to have to adjust to his bravado, it seemed. He earned it being a Prince and all but she felt it would not go as smoothly when they were in more civilized company that did not know what he truly was. Which leaves the social graces to her. 

Great.

“I will prepare two packs for travel," Domina croaked as she headed into the mouth of the cave. 

A span of silence passed before Tavali couldn't take it anymore, "So where on Nirn are we headed?"

His brow furrowed a bit, "Where were you?"

"Cyrodiil."

"Then we will arrive just south of the White-Gold Tower. My shrine is there." He said. His black eyes turned on her. She thought if she stared long enough into the inky depths she could almost see a spark. A subtle, blink-and-you-miss-it, reminder of what he is. It's hard to think that a Prince of Oblivion stood next to her in such an unassuming form. He looked so _mortal_ standing there. Then heat crawled up her face. 

How long, precisely, had she been staring? 

Suddenly the knapping station across the clearing was utterly fascinating and she promptly gave it the attention it deserved. The obsidian glittered in the light and she thought of his eyes again. Damn it all. Domina emerged from the cave with two leather over-the-shoulder packs. She pointedly handed a set of travelling clothes to hircine with his saying, "The other mortals may die of shock at your near nudity, my lord."

"Ah, you are correct. I nearly forgot about mortals and their fastidiousness," He said. She heard the distinct sound of rustling clothes behind her and pretended not to notice. As a werewolf nudity was nothing new and bosmer didn't wear much to begin with. These reactions were completely unwarranted and she chided herself for them. What was wrong with her? Until she got her thoughts under control she would peruse the various handmade weaponry lying around and very carefully not look behind her until he was done. 

"Which do you favor?" He asked. His black linen shirt strained at his shoulders as he pulled it down his torso. The knapping and fletching area had the expected bows, arrows and quivers. She could use them, of course. And she could use them well. But that was not the question.

"Dual wielding daggers are my preference. Single-edged and about the length of my forearm for melee. For distance, I use throwing knives, spikes or stars. I enjoy knives as they have more than just the use as a weapon. And I hate stars as they just tend to annoy things instead of killing them."

"I do not have anything along those lines here. Had we the time I would make some for you but I wish to be on nirn as soon as possible. We can get you some after we get gold but for now, your body is the best weapon you have," He said as he took a bow and quiver full of pitch-black arrows. With a determined set to his jaw, he said, "One that I will train into the perfect predator."

With packs slung over their shoulders, ready to travel, she turned to Hircine with a question, "What am I going to call you?" He blinked at the question, "I cant keep calling you Hircine. 'My lord' is easy to cover. You would be a noble or some such. 'Hircine' would get people questioning your parents' sanity at best."

"Hmmm," He growled, "I did not think of this. I have had no need of going into any of the larger mortal settlements in this seeming before. I will think on this, little whelp."  
Without much preamble he started weaving his fingers in the air. The words that seeped from his lips sent a chill down her spine. Her very bones rebelled against their grating, undulating sound. The words seemed to bounce and echo in a fashion that made her grateful that whatever he was saying was brief. 

The embers in the fire pit started to shake, sending sparks into the air. Bits of burnt wood and what looked like bone started to float into the air. More and more joined them until the pit was empty and an arch filled the space. the sparks abruptly pulled into the center of the archway and flashed brilliantly. Tavali shielded her eyes but it was too late for her not to see spots behind her eyelids. A dull roaring noise buffeted her as the portal opened.

"After you, little whelp," Said Hircine as he put his hand on her lower back and pushed her in.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one is shorter than the other two. I chose to end at a good place and not pump it with unneeded filler to reach an arbitrary goal.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In this fic I'll be introducing alpha/beta/omega dynamics. However, I am pulling said dynamics from a fantastic series called the Mercy Thompson series. As far as I know, just flip the Beta and Omegas roll from the sites usual and you're good!

Floating. Falling. Pulled everywhere at once while suspended in utter stillness. It smelled of fire, brimstone and painful death. Burning fur and fear. Dull roars and echoes of screams raced passed her ears. As suddenly as it began it ended; she was spat onto grass and dirt. 

She had never been more happy to see dirt. 

She let her senses right themselves, which took a few moments. When Nirn stopped spinning like a top she saw it was close to dawn and soft light blanketed the area in a pink wash. She dug her fingers into the blessed earth beneith her hands. Birds sang contentedly in the trees. The dew smelled sweet and clean and right. Hircine's steps crunched quietly beside her head.

"How was your journey?" He said with a quirk to his lip. His eyes were laughing when she glared.

"Unpleasant..." She grated, "My lord." Standing swiftly she brushed herself off. She turned and looked up at the statue of his shrine. Glittering white marble shined in the meagre light marred only by patches of moss at the base. A hawk perched on one of the statues antlers while it preened. A beautiful little creature that made her smile. She breathed deep the scent of woods and closed her eyes. The sound of scurrying small game and happy birds brought her heart peace and she said, "I'm glad I'm home. Well, on Tamriel at least. Not that I won't enjoy The Grounds when my time comes, of course."

"Planar travel is not built for mortals. I am not surprised your trip was 'unpleasant,'" He said while plucking a twig from her hair.   
"Well a warning would have been nice," She blurted. Then she froze. It was so easy to forget what he was, "Forgive me, my Lord-"  
He held up a hand to stop her, "No. No more 'my lords' or anything of the sort. You were right when you said my name should change. No one can know who I am, save you, while I'm here. Calling me 'Lord' anything would make us prey on the roads."

She settled her pack on her shoulder as she thought on his words, "You're right. It will take some time to get used to addressing you so informally, though," She said, nervously. 

"Do not stress yourself overmuch Tavali. In this guise, you may call me... Ullr. At least while we are among other mortals. While alone I would still like you to use Hircine."

"Ullr. Where did you get that name?" 

He smiled brilliantly as he stared into a memory, "Ullr was one of the finest hunters the Nords ever produced," He said walking into the woods, "He could pin a rabbit through its eye from 100 yards on a foggy day. Sadly he would not worship me and is in Sovngarde now." 

"I'm sure he would be honored for a god to take his name. Even one he did not follow," She said. 

Hircine pulled his mind from ages passed, "He may have. Or he would have challenged me, dramatically, for the right 'in the name of his ancestors', as Nords are wont to do."

"They can be rather theatrical, cant they, my lo- Eh... Hircine," She said. The familiarity felt like an odd weight on her tongue.

She wondered at how her life turned since joining the Bruma pack. She had worshipped Hircine for a good decade before finding them by pure happenstance. She had been hunting an astoundingly large stag when a mass of tawny fur barreled into it from the darkness. At first, she thought it was a wolf until it stood on its hind legs. Its orange eyes stared through her. Into her very being and decided she was prey. On all fours, it stalked slowly toward her and her heart raced so fast that she could hear nothing else. Tavali grabbed her blades, ready to face death. She muttered a single phrase that changed her life forever. 

_"Hircine, grant me strength."_

"Tavali?" He said, having apparently started into the woods with her mind miles away. It snapped her out of her revery and he asked, "Where did your mind take you?"

She smiled at the now bittersweet memory while catching up to him, "I was remembering the first time I met my alpha... Former alpha, Sigurd. He nearly ate me after he killed a stag I was stalking. That was until I muttered a prayer to you. He heard me and shifted back to talk. Let me tell you! Seeing a werewolf shift for the first time right after the thing tries to kill you? Not a pleasant experience. Poor Sigurd had to dodge a flying knife when he first opened his mouth!"

Tavali dissolved into laughter. She grabbed her belly in pure mirth. Just as Hircine opened his mouth to comment the tone changed and her laughter broke. Tears started to stream down her face and, for all his eras of existence and all of his expertise, he had no clue what to do about it. She was obviously in pain as she knelt in the grass, weeping like a newborn babe. Alarmingly his new mortal guise did more than house a piece of his Deadric spirit. It gave him... empathy. 

Strange feelings of distress and worry flooded his mortal senses in a mad rush. How should he handle this? How do mortals normally handle a comrade in distress? He wracked his brain and came up with nothing. He never had cause to pay attention to emotions outside of a hunters thrill or frustration. What need did he have for the emotions of his prey? 

An Idea formed. He had been a beast far more often than he ever had been a man. How would, say, a wolf comfort a packmate after loss? Contact. He squatted down beside her and leaned his side flush with hers. Her tears ebbed after a few moments as she realised what he was doing. He was leaning against her without saying a word. She couldn't help the lopsided smile on her face when she asked, "What are you doing?"

"I am comforting a packmate," he said like it was the most obvious thing in the world. Her smile shakily grew. He was warm, she realised. Almost as if he had a mild fever. Him being a Deadra probably had more to do with that than any illness. She leaned into him and sighed. Her pack used to do things like this. Casual touch was far more common among weres. It felt a little like coming back home. 

"Thank you," she said while resting her head on his shoulder, "Remembering Sigurd. The pack. I only had them for two months but they were the best two months of my life."

Hircine had a far off look in his eye as he thought. He said, "Would you tell me of them?"

"Yes, but not now," Tavali said through shaking breaths, "It's too fresh and if I think of them for more than an instant I'm liable to break down again. Wait... did you say packmate?"

"I did indeed," he replied with a grin as he set a heavy hand on her back, "And you are to be my alpha!"


	5. Chapter 5

She could almost hear the gears of her mind come to a grinding, screeching halt. An alpha of a pack? _Her?_ In what realm would that be a good idea? She couldn't protect her last pack! She had barely any training and had to figure out what oddities Hircine gave her. She couldn't be an alpha! Let alone _his!_

His grin widened, "What is wrong? Surprised that the force of nature that is Hircine would abdicate the title of alpha of our pack, little whelp? What better way to hide who I truly am than make myself your second?"

The logic was there. No one would guess that Hircine himself would be beta to a wolf with only two moons under her belt. Logic had nothing to do with the creeping panic crawling up her spine. Tavali couldn't meet Hircine's eye when she asked, "Why?"

"Well, I told of my reasoning."

"But I failed them," She said while tears she didn't know she had left slid down her face. Guilt gripped her heart in a vice, "All I could do was run into the woods like a coward. You had to help me take them out, I could'n-"

"Silence," He said with an edge to his voice. Her eyes snapped to his very literal fiery gaze, "Hear me and question it no more. I gave you a shift. That was all. I touched you with no other power. All I did was give you a sword when you were unarmed."

"But I still fled!"

"You survived!" He roared. He stood and pulled her up on her feet with him. His hands grabbed her shoulders in a punishing grip, "Had you not I would have had to choose a lesser wolf as my companion. Had you stayed you would be in the Grounds without the ability to help me take The Order down. You alone could not have saved them. Stop blaming yourself for the actions of others.

"What you can do is guide me through Cyrodiil. I have not been on this continent in some 500 years. In turn, I will be your second. Your trusted advisor in all things Lycanthrope. Together we will take vengeance on those who have wronged us."

His tone brokered no argument so she held her tongue and the flames in his eyes died down as he watched her. She focused on her breathing. The scent of woods and earth and growing things. As her spirit calmed she stepped back from him. With a cheeky smile, she said, "Come, then, Second Hircine. We will make our way to Skingrad."

The first day of travel went uneventfully until Hircine's stomach growled. Loudly. He moaned in frustration, "How do I forget every time.."

"You forgot you need to eat?" She said, failing to hide her laughter. He glared with a hint of glow to his eyes. She raised her hands in placation, "Okay, okay, I get it. You usually don't need to eat. Shall we hunt?"

"Did you really need to ask?"

She laughed and held out her hand, "Give me your pack."

He wordlessly followed the order and she donned his next to hers. After a few moments of scanning the trees around them, she abruptly jumped and caught a branch of an oak tree. With her new claws she climbed gracefully to nearly the top and hung the packs out of sight from the ground. With a few jumps and a tuck-and-roll landing, she was back on the ground in no time.

"I'd like to see robbers find that while we're away. Now we're not weighed down."

"Clever," Hircine said. She fought the blush that tried to overtake her face at the whispered praise. 

She waved the compliment away, "It's an old Bosmer trick. My people aren't common around here so our things are safer in a tree than left by a camp or in some bushes."

"It is still clever, " He said redying his bow, "What do we have for prey around here?"

"The usual. Deer, boar and various small game."  
"How boring..."  
"Heh. I promise we will pick up a contract or two once we get to Skingrad. Something a bit more exciting than a deer hunt."  
"I will hold you to your word, little whelp."

The hunt, of course, went well. They found potential prey almost immediately. As he took aim to take down the large rabbit she started to pray. She usually sent a silent prayer to Hircine during a hunt. The small prayer was sent before she remembered who was holding the bow.

It was a clean kill through the side of its head. They came out of hiding to retrieve their prize when she caught a smirk on his face.

"What?"  
"A prayer for guidance?"  
"Oh," She said, face growing hot, "That. Right. It's habit at this point..."  
"Do not let me stop you. You have been one of my most faithful followers for as long as you have worshipped me," He said, slinging the small buck over his shoulder, "Though this form shouldn't be able to hear prayers with its mortal mind..."

"Well," she said while they made their way back to their packs, "Domina said it herself. I am 'drenched in your unholy power.'”

"True. The changes I have made to you are extensive," He walked slightly behind her left shoulder. She could feel his eyes on her. The feel of them reminded her of when she first heard his voice, just not nearly as intense, "Perhaps we have a stronger connection than I thought."

She did not let herself linger on those words too much. A quick trip up and down the big oak got them their supplies. A camping area was quickly found by a stream nearby and they both got to work making camp for the day. 

She instructed him to dress the rabbit while she gathered firewood. He followed her command without comment. As she gathered and unloaded enough to last the night she pondered on that. With her limited experience with other wolves Tavali knew he was being almost too good. He was making an excellent second, silently breaking down the rabbit with a conjured dagger while she got the fire started. After he got the pelt of she told him to lay it out, flesh side up, on a nearby rock. 

"I'll show you a few more Bosmeri tricks in a minute," she said, stoking the flames a bit higher, "Wood elves don't have much in the way of Magicka but we make use of what little we have. Hand me the pelt," She took it from him and explained, "We use it for survival when we're in the wild. This spell cures and treats a pelt in no time flat!"

Green motes of energy emanated from her hands and infused the hide in its light. Steam rose from the pelt as the liquid evaporated and any leftover membrane from the skinning flaked off in little puffs. She shook it out vigorously downwind and handed the instantly cured skin to Hircine. He inspected it like it was made of gold.

"You mortals never cease to amaze me," He said, "Alteration school, yes?"  
"Mmhm. Most of them are. Though the one I used while you were busy with our prey was a very small Destruction spell to get fires going. I can do it the old fashioned way but," she let a tiny flame curl from her fingertips, "using this is far faster."

He abruptly snatched her hand and held it to his face to study it, yanking her onto her side. Her breath whumped out of her. She glared at him from the ground but it glanced off of him with nary a scratch. He had her by the wrist, again, and she let a growl roll from deep within her chest with a smile to soften the blow. 

Reality seemed to slowly creep in on him and take him from his thoughts. He blinked, "Did... Did you just growl at me?"

She kept smiling,"Indeed I did."

"That is quite bold of you," He said catching her eye and dropping her hand. She knew that look and was waiting for it. The dominance fight. Not one of blood, claws and teeth but one of willpower. He was seeing if her spirit was strong enough to lead him, she guessed. A physical battle would have been one-sided against what was, essentially, a demigod. 

She was at a disadvantage right away lying in the dirt. She slowly, so slowly, without breaking eye contact, got up to a sitting position as he cooly stared. His power palpably gathered and the woods around them grew quiet. It was as if nature itself stopped to witness the outcome. 

She pulled on the part of herself that made her wolf. That made her alpha. With a push of her power, she said, "Stand down."  
Her eyes lit as her wolf came to the fore and she heard another voice from within echo the words. Travail was right. Her wolf was becoming more separate. 

His eyes took on an ember glow as they stared that glowed ever brighter. Sweat trickled down her neck as she struggled. She could feel Hircine's power pour off of him in heavy waves. She wanted to give in. To back down and bear her belly but she would not. She stood as if weights were tied to every limb until she looked down on him. With one last pull she commanded, "Stand. Down. Second."

He held her gaze for a small eternity before closing his eyes. Hircine tilted his head to expose his neck in submission. Quick as a flash she bent and nipped his neck as a gesture of acceptance. 'She' being Tavali’s wolf.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm glad I got this one to be longer! Thanks for reading so far!


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> After reading a proper A/B/O fic I have learned my A/B/O dynamics are not just rearranged but very mild. Still there though. Enjoy!

Tavali knew the biting was normal for an alpha to do in this situation but it still felt a bit odd to, you know, bite a deadric god. Her wolf took care of that by doing it for her. 

“Very good, little whelp,” said Hircine with pride, “You knew precisely what to do. You will make an excellent alpha.”

Her face was still by his and his warm breath on her neck sent shivers down her spine. She quickly got up and tended to the fire. It needed her undivided attention, right this second, if it was going to last the night. The redness of her face was from the heat of the flames, of course.

Tavali cleared her throat and said, “Now that we have that settled we should get that rabbit roasted.”

Tavali went through her pack. It was larger on the inside than she expected. Far larger. The pack held canvas waterproofed with beeswax and oil, tent stakes, a cast iron pot and lid, a kettle, cutlery, a bedroll with a sewn-on pillow, a mortar and pestle and a fascinating knife she set aside to inspect later. All in all that was only half the contents!

"This is some daedric thing, isn't it?" she asked with a shake of it for emphasis.

"Yes. That bag can hold about 8 times what one that volume would normally hold. I have an iron tripod and cooking grate in mine, as well."

She took the knife she found for a closer look. It was the strangest steel knife she had ever seen with its odd grooves and irregular shape. The spine was bluntly serrated. Its handle had grooves that moulded to her hand and she noticed small holes through the top and bottom of the full-tang hilt. The weight was perfect and the matt black blended into the night. Sadly it was too short and oddly shaped to fight with in the way she was used to. 

"Did you make this?" She asked.

"Did I make the perfect tool for the huntsman? Yes," He held out his hand and she passed him the knife, "The spine can cut through dense graht oak branches as if they were soggy parchment. The handle conforms to the hand of its owner. The end is heavy and flat to hammer stakes into the ground. The holes in the handle are for affixing it to a branch if a spear is needed."

"Not to mention it is a beautiful piece of craftsmanship," she said, taking the blade back. She put it back in its scabbard of rough crocodile skin, "Wait. What skin is this? I don't think it smells right for crocodile or alligator."

"Good nose. Thats because its daedroth hide. That beast was a fun hunt,” He said wistfully. “One of Coldharbour's best. Her name was 'Ragathom' and she was _massive._..."

They spent their night telling stories of hunts and close calls over a supper of roast rabbit. Tavali went to sleep happily while Hircine took first watch.

Water dancing down the leaves. The smell of wet wood and earth. Smoke clings to the wall-roots of the pod. Wait. The pod? Tavali sat up and looked around the sloping walls made of thick still-living branches fused together via magic. A bright fire crackled in the middle of the round room casting long shadows from every uneven groove in the floor.

One shadow stood out. A ring on the floor shimmered in the light of the flames and cast a shadow far, far larger than should have been possible. Then the shadow had shape between one breath and the next. Fur. Teeth. Eyes. She recognised those eyes. The long claws and pitch-black pelt that faded into white at the snout and paws... Her beast.

She smirked, “Why did you have to go and bite him like that?”

“You would not. Had to myself, stupid pup,” She said without moving her mouth, maw? at all, “He is perfect beta. Powerful. We had to claim him or another would take what is ours.”

“I see. Next time warn a girl before you go biting people,” Tavali said with a laugh, “I take it I’m- Were dreaming then?”

“Yes. This is best place to meet you. Did not want to frighten you away. Would have buried me in mind. Thought me something that Sheogorath made.”

“You didn't want me to think im crazy. That's kind of you." she said wryly, "I'm just talking to an independent beast mind that shares my head. Nothing crazy about that.”

“Yes…” The beast said. She cocked her head to the side, ”Am own mind. Am you… but not. I-we are one and two. I have best hunting senses. Have best pack link. Can be aware and watching while body sleeps.”

“Useful. And I can handle our social graces and anything that doesn't involve the killing of our enemies,” she replied. 

“Yes. Is good being us. Makes us best hunter. As long as I can be alpha when we kill some of the pack-slayers. Wish to taste their blood and meat.” She growled as the amber eyes lit in vengeful anticipation.

Tavali groaned and rubbed her face, “Not that I don't share that sentiment. Just don't go making a habit of eating people. please. Them I don't mind _as much_ but eating people is not good for a were. We tend to get addicted.”

That was one of the first warnings about the beast blood. The wolf likes the taste of mortal man and mer a little too much. Though when she was warned of ‘the wolf’ it was far more metaphorical than she was experiencing. 

There she was. Her beast before her. It was odd looking at your own face from across a firelit room. But she guessed it wasn't just hers now, “you need a name.”

“What name?”

“How about… Tala. It means-”

“Wolf in bosmer. I know. Fits.”

“Indeed it does,” Tavali said slowly. 

The dream fades as sunlight peeks over the horizon. The first thing she thought was, “how odd. I'm upright.” Sitting casually against a tree near the remnants of last nights fire was not how one usually wakes. 

“You're back,” Hircine rumbled, “I was speaking with Tala while you were asleep. You didn't tell me your beast took on sentience. I expect you to tell me of such momentous changes to your experience as a lycanthrope from here on out."

"Will do- Wait. You spoke to her too?" The fact that Tala took her body for an unknown amount of time while she was sleeping disturbed her. 

"Yes. It was interesting. The only time I've spoken to the beast within one of my get is when they have lost themselves to it entirely. Yet here you are," he gestured as if presenting her to a crowd, "whole. More."

"It is odd. She... introduced herself?" she fumbled for the words to describe such an experience, "In my dream last night. I've had a feeling of her ever since I woke up in The Grounds I think."

"You scent of distress. Know that I only spoke with Tala for a short time. She knew that her 'being alpha for too long' would concern you. She, however, wished to speak with her maker," He said, looking smug.

"Well, Second 'maker', You need to start packing our things while I douse the campfire."

"You speak with a lot of impudence toward a god," he jibed while pretending to look affronted. The Prince had a sense of humor. Go figure. Maybe he would have laughed if she gave in to the urge to pet his snout. Eh... Probably not.

"You," she said waving the pot in her hand accusingly as she got up, "should have thought of that before becoming my second. I, as alpha, have a right to snark _and_ to order you around as I see fit." She punctuated her last word with a bop to his nose as she passed to fetch water from the nearby stream. He played at snapping at her hand with a clack of teeth so she shoved him over on his side. She laughed, "Pack the camp, second!"

"Yes, alpha," he mock groused. She missed this. A closeness that pack had. The connection was only gone for a few days to her but felt more like an aeon. She had to spend more time with him for the bond to solidify but she recognised the tendrils of connection that had already started. 

She doused the fire and packed her things with a small smile. He had already had most of it done by the time she got back to camp. In no time they made their way west toward the gold road.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The mild A/B/O dynamics are explained herein. Hopefully, this answers some reader questions about how these packs are put together.

_ “He is good beta,” _ She insisted. Again.  
_ “Tala. For the last time, he isn't an actual beta. Our beta in the hierarchy, maybe. But he is the opposite of an actual beta.”_  
_ “Tala is wolf. Is knowing more than you…”_ She lobbed back. 

Tavali could feel her pace in agitation in the back of her mind. They had been arguing since they got to the gold road. Tala insisted he smelled like a beta. An actual beta instead of the title of ‘their’ beta. An alphas second was often called their beta no matter their status so she thought nothing of Tala calling Hircine that. Until now.

“What troubles you, my alpha. I can feel the frustration from here,” He said from his position to her right and a step behind.

She sighed, “Tala insists you're an actual beta and not just the title-”

With an amber glow to her eyes Tala said, “Tala knows you are beta. Can smell it. Smells good. You are good second and good beta.”

Hircine smirked, “Thank you Alpha Tala. You are most astute. Indeed I am a beta at the moment.”

Her eyes returned to a dull yellow as Tavali reeled back in shock, “How? You're the God of us. How in Oblivion are you a beta?”

“Like you said. I am the god of you. Of all man-beasts. I made the rolls for the good of the pack and can inhabit any of them. If I wanted,” Suddenly his scent changed to something soothing and warm. Through the pack link she felt such calm and peace tears pricked at her eyes, “I can become Omega. The placidity that lies outside the pack order. Or…”

The power that rolled off of him suddenly knocked her back. The leaves in the trees shook with the might of it. The fire in his eyes bore into her and she instantly hit her knees, the cobbles bruising. Tala bent their head and bared their neck in surrender to his strength. As suddenly as the power slapped her it stopped. She breathed. Its all she could do.

Picking her up he said, “Because the power I wield is not exactly subtle I am beta for now. Why do you think you adapted to not calling me ‘my lord’ all of the time so quickly?”

“Instinct,” Tavali concluded. It made sense. The pack role of beta was important. They were a lot rarer than the alphas and typically were the heart of the pack. No dominance fights with them since they didn't want to dominate. In order to protect his identity, and thus him, she automatically started treating him as a normal beta. 

“Correct. My power would scare away my prey after all,” He said. The gleam in his eye said there was more to his words. 

Tavali’s eyes widened. Tala took a sudden deep breath through nose and mouth. She was right. He did smell good. Like man and woods and hot burning campfires.

“We… should get going if we want to make it to Skingrad by nightfall,” She said making good time by nearly running down the road, her pounding heart keeping pace. His laughter followed her. Clung to her. The heat clinging to her neck was surely the midday sun. 

_ “ Why you run? He would make good mate,”_ Tala thought. Tavali growled low in her throat in response, _ ”Why not make him our mate? Hircine-Ullr is good and strong!” _

_ “Did you forget the fact he is a daedric prince? He wouldn't take a mortal as mate if he takes mates at all. I'm saving us the heartache.”_

Soon Skingrad loomed on the horizon. The scents of people, horses and cropland replaced the homey smell of the forest. The afternoon sun shining brightly on the men and mer working the fields. The pair turned the heads of the mostly imperial populace. Even if the races were more equally present, a bosmer and a nord as travelling companions would still make an impression.

She watched Hircine's face with amusement. His jaw was slack at the sight the Skingrad Keep with its tall towers and broad bridges made of dark stone blocks the size of hay bales. It pleasantly surprised her that he could be shocked at anything.

Morning glory hugged the archway leading to the city. Purple flowers dripping down and adding splashes of bright color to the dull rock. Skingrad loves its potted everything. There wasnt a naked windowsill in sight. Skingrad was her favorite of the Cyrodiilic cities for that reason. No matter how urban it got the people here didn't let it kill the earth. 

“You mortals made all this?” He said, “You all will never cease to amaze, my alpha…” 

“With not a lot of magic too. Not many wield the Magicka to lift stone slabs that tall. Even fewer of that calibre would deign to do construction work.” She said as she let him take it all in for a while. She thought of their little pack and something occurred to her. Him saying ‘alpha’ would be suspicious to say the least.

As they slowly walked through the town she started to mutter so only were ears would hear, “While were in town, by the way, I am not your ‘alpha.’ You call me ‘Boss’ within these walls.” 

He blinked a few times from being pulled from his musings. His brow quirked and he said, “Yes... Boss.”

“Good. Our story is were a couple of mercenaries. I run the band and you are my strong-and-silent right hand man,” She instructed with a pat to his shoulder. Tavali thought that having this cover story in place now will save a lot of hassle later, “I do the talking. You back me up and look intimidating. Were going to an inn called The Two Sisters. I’ve picked up jobs there before.”

He nodded soberly. A mask of menace fell onto his features. The affable nord beta fell away and left a force to be reckoned with. One that could cut with a glance of his steely gaze. His jaw set and eyes ever watchful. As if he were looking for trouble to take out for his boss. She half expected to see embers in his eyes.

_Perfect._

They walked into The Two Sisters inn and took a secluded table in the back of the main floor. The bar was made of rich dark wood and a wide variety of wines were nestled in holders behind it. Similar wood panelling adorned nearly every wall. The tables were thick and well scuffed from years of merrymaking. An orcish woman looked up, gave a smile of greeting and went back to wiping off the bar top. 

“Anything I can get for you two?” She asked in a voice as deep and rich as the wood of her inn, “Or are you adventurers lookin’ for work?”

“The second one. I haven't the gold at the moment and am looking to fix that. Any rumors lately?”

“If you're not opposed to selling your sword I know a guy. He's looking for bodyguards for his trip north,” she said leaning against a post for the second floor and crossing her arms, “Needs to get to the mages guild or some such. He usually comes in about now to see if any mercs are about.”

“Many thanks…” she trailed off.

“Mog. Mog gra-Mogahk.”

“Tavali Leshas. Well met Mog,” she said, “This is my associate, Ullr.”

Hircine, playing his part beautifully, only gave a low grunt as an introduction. The orc eyed him, “You gonna bring trouble, Ullr?”

All he did was slide his eyes to Tavali and cross his arms over his barrel chest. She said, “He's not the talkative type. He won't be trouble if there's none brought to us. Tell us of the mage.”

This job wouldn't be ideal. Hiding one's nature for long periods isn't fun. She would do it for the right price, though. 

“His name is Kaemoril Fathius. He-”

“How about I introduce myself, Mog.” Said a cultured lilting voice from the doorway. An altmer in pale teal robes stood in the open doorway. His white-gold hair in a plait down his back and a simple wooden staff in his left hand. He tilted his head at the pair at the table regally, “Kamoril Fathius. Mage Adept of the Mages Guild. I am in need of intimidation to accompany me to the Anvil guildhall. What is your price, nord?”

Hircine narrowed his eyes dangerously at the altmer then looked to Tavali. She held her hand to her heart in mock hurt and said, “Oh is this little wood elf not enough brawn for you? I assure you I am more capable than I look.”

“Oh, what are you going to do? Claw them to death? Those are impressive fakes,” He sneered, “How do you expect to provide protection?”

She fought a growl and sat her pack on the table. Tala was affronted and insisted they break his arm like a twig to show how strong they were. She opted to stand and make her way passed him to the hearth. A stack of firewood sat next to the cheerily burning fire. She thought the _CRACK_ of a log the size of her thigh being broken in half with her bare hands would shut him up. But, word of a 5’2” wood elf doing that would travel like wildfire. 

She opted to take a steak knife off of a nearby table. She spun it in her hand, both to show off some dexterity and to test its balance. With a wicked grin she said, “Hey Mog. Can I fling this knife into that stuffed boar head over there?”

Mog looked over at the mounted head across the room and the way the spritely elf was deftly playing with the knife in her hand. She mulled the question over. Smirking herself she said, “If you can get it in his left eye from clear across the room I won't make you pay for any damages. If you get another in his right you get free drinks for a week.” Mog bent below the counter and presented another knife to tavali. 

“And if I get them both in the eyes... at the same time?” she asked twirling the other knife in her left hand. Too focused on the wager she missed Hircine's fascinated gaze locking on her as she played with the blades. Something stirred in his chest that he had no name for, warm and smouldering. 

“Then whatever Kae was gonna pay ya isn't enough,” She said with a throaty chuckle. 

She took both knives in hand, turned and bolted up the wall across from the taxidermy. Flipping and facing the boar she let the metal fly with a sharp zing. Two satisfying thunks greeted her ears while upside down. The sound of the glass eyes shattering tinkled around the room. She landed on the balls of her feet and smiled over her shoulder at a wide-eyed Kaemoril. 

He schooled his face into nonchalance. His next words looked like they were roughly pulled from his throat, “Indeed… Mog seems to be correct. I will double my initial gold from three hundred each to six.” 

That was the right price for her at least. But something about the immaculate altmer irked her, “Let me convien with Ullur now that we know what you offer. Anvil isnt that far. I will be back with him in a moment.”

She didn't know how she knew he was holding back. Was it how stiffly he was holding himself? How his face was an impassive mask of granite? Perhaps it was deeper. She needed to talk to hircine. Something didn't smell right.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tala is basically beast from Jane Yellowrock and I love her.

**Author's Note:**

> This is the base fic to my ongoing comic of the same name (https://archiveofourown.org/works/19946230). I hope you all enjoy!


End file.
